


MINE

by sleep_and_feel_no_pain



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, Smut, if you can call it that, with a tiny bit of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 06:39:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2458490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleep_and_feel_no_pain/pseuds/sleep_and_feel_no_pain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seth belongs to Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	MINE

Seth's eyes snap open, and the first thing he realizes is it's still dark. He blinks his eyes a few times, rolling them around without moving his head, peering around the darkened hotel room. His face is half-pressed into the pillow, and he can feel how dry his lips and throat feel. He must've been sleeping really deeply, and snoring. What had made him wake up?

He blinks a few more times, and slowly he starts to roll over. Something.. something isn't right. He can feel it in the air, in the atmosphere. Something is telling him to tread lightly, move slowly, cautiously. 

As he turns over onto his back, spreading his arms out to hit the cool sheets, he turns his head to the right and is startled by the black silhouette standing next to his bed. A cold feeling of terror shoots through his veins but before he can even react, the intruder leaps onto him, efficiently pinning him down and a large hand clamps down over his mouth.

"Don't... scream."

The rasp in that voice is unmistakeable. As is the feel of the solid wall of muscle pressed against him, and the scent of his skin. All things he remembers so well, from a time and place that seem so long ago, but still, still they feel so very familiar that Seth feels himself relax, just slightly, despite the fact that he has no clue why Dean Ambrose has seemingly broken into his room and is now holding him down to his bed. For all he knows, Dean could have finally lost what shred of sanity he possessed, and is now going to kill him. What other reason would he have to sneak in here in the dead of night while he is asleep, when for months [what feels like years] Dean has not so much as hinted that he feels anything for him but contempt? His intentions have to be ill-willed.

Slowly the pressure of Dean's hand lifts from his face, and both of his arms are pinned down to the bed with Dean's hands holding tightly to his wrists. Seth gulps down a big breath of air. "What the fuck, Ambrose? What the fuck are you doing here?" He spits out, hoping Dean doesn't hear the slight tremor in his voice.

Dean stares down at him, their eyes locking as a slow, dangerous looking smile spreads across his face. Seth can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up but he knows better than to look away. Dean would take that as a sign of weakness, of vulnerability, and he can't show either when dealing with the so-called Lunatic. Not now, not anymore. The time for that has long passed.

"How did you even get into my room? What do you want?" Seth tries again, trying his best to sound annoyed instead of nervous, even though his stomach is twisting into a painful knot as Dean's smile becomes a blatant, unhinged smirk.

"I have my ways," Dean says, pressing himself more firmly against Seth, though Seth hasn't made any attempt at escape. "And what do I want? To teach you a lesson, Seth."

"A lesson? What the fuck are you babbling about Ambr--"

The rest of his sentence gets sucked out of his mouth, along with the air in his lungs as Dean lunges forward suddenly, attacking his lips harshly. All lips and teeth and tongue. Seth reflexively tenses, shock turning his muscles into stone for a few moments. His brain frantically runs through possible motives. (He's trying to get into my head. Trying to throw me off my game. Trying to.. trying to...) His brain short-circuits as Dean sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth to taste the metallic flavor of his blood, and before he can stop himself, Seth finds himself kissing him back, his tongue snaking out to share the coppery taste with Ambrose.

Dean wedges himself between Seth's thighs, driving his hips forward to grind against him. The sound that forces its way from Seth's chest is swallowed hungrily by Dean's lips. Dean answers with a deep, rumbling growl that Seth is sure he feels shoot straight down to his cock, which is rapidly hardening as Dean ruts against him roughly. Seth feels himself running hot; it feels like the temperature in the room has raised well above a hundred. Maybe he has caught fire. Maybe Dean has. Maybe they'll burn together. Perish in flames.

Dean pulls away, staring down at him, his eyes glassy and so dilated that the blue is nearly eclipsed by the black of his pupils. He looks so much less like a man and so much more like pure animal that it frightens and arouses Seth in equal measure.

Dean half mutters-half growls something, and lowers his head to attach his teeth to the side of Seth's neck, biting down and then sliding his tongue along the abused skin, his lips sucking a bruise there. Seth yelps, straining his arms against the vice grip that Dean has on his wrists, as he continues his way up to Seth's ear, and this time what he says is clear in the deep, raspy growl, "You're mine."

A shiver races down Seth's spine at how possessive he sounds, and even more at how his body reacts to it. He's painfully hard now, his cock twitching and pushing uncomfortably against the confines of his boxer briefs. He's not sure exactly what has happened that has caused Dean to react this way, after all this time when it seemed that they were a thing of the past, and can't for the life of him piece enough brain cells together to puzzle it out at the moment. 

Dean ruts against him a few more times, growling and snarling like a wild beast, before he releases his hold on Seth's wrists to start yanking at his own clothes. Seth can only stare up at him from his supine position on the bed, his body frozen in place with the shock of just how this is playing out. 

Tossing the last of his clothes over the side of the bed, Dean reaches down and unceremoniously yanks Seth's boxers down and off. His eyes are wide and savage, his lips curling up into a feral snarl as he reaches out and runs his hands down the length of Seth's torso. "You belong to me." He states, locking his eyes onto Seth's again. 

The way he says it sounds like there is no room for debate. Seth can't break the stare, can't bring himself to question him or dispute him, even though in the back of his brain he is sure that he should say something. But something about the way Dean is staring at him, something about the dominant and possessive energy rolling off of Dean in waves, is having the decidedly interesting effect of making him want to let Dean have his way with him. Every place Dean's hands touch leaves a trail of fire in its wake. "Mine." Dean growls again as his fist finally closes around Seth's cock. Seth releases a shaky, desperate moan at the sudden hot pressure wrapping around his cock. 

"D-Dean.. please..." Seth can hear his own voice croak out, not even sounding like himself, and okay, maybe this isn't such a good idea because it feels like he is giving Dean way too much power over him way too easily, without question or protest. A voice curses at him inside his head, telling him to stop it before it goes too far, but it's already far too late for any of that when Dean's smirk grows even more wicked, with a smug look of satisfaction curling around the edges of his smile. 

Without any preamble at all Dean lowers his head, rubbing his face against the taunt muscles of Seth's stomach like an overgrown cat. His hand strokes Seth's length in slow, precise strokes, his grip somewhere just this side of not quite tight enough but still enough to pull a strangled choke out of Seth's throat, his hips jerking forward into the touch. Dean's hot breath ghosts against the side of his cock as he leans his face closer, pausing in his task to cast another glance up at him before his tongue reaches out to trace him from base to tip. Seth feels a full body shudder rack him as with one last smirk, Dean finally raises his head, guiding his cock between those devilish lips and swallowing him down his throat. 

"Fuuuuuuuck Dean....!" Seth can't help but fist his hands into Dean's hair, feeling the sweaty strands between his fingers as he pulls on them. Dean's mouth is utterly amazing. Seth feels his eyes rolling into his head as that wicked tongue moves in ways that surely have to be witchcraft, because it is steadily taking him apart. He feels his grip on reality slowly fading until all he can focus on is the incredible heat of that mouth, and the growling, moaning sounds Dean is making sending delicious vibrations through him as he increases his pace. 

He is slammed back into reality for a second as he feels a slickened finger press against the entrance to his body, and he wonders idly where the lube appeared from and how Dean managed to slick his fingers without him even realizing. The voice in his head, though it seems further away now, is telling him to STOP THIS NOW because surely this is some kind of trick Ambrose is playing on him. Dean hasn't touched him this way in months (because he ruined everything), he hasn't looked at him with anything other than rage swirling in the icy depths of those blue eyes. Why now, what's changed? 

The questions again go unasked as that slick digit sinks into him, pushing inside as far as it will go and then starting a rough rhythm in and out, crooking slightly to push against that spot deep inside of him that makes his toes curl and a heaving, shuddering breath leave his body. He yanks harder on Dean's hair as he fucks him with his finger, pausing to add another to the mix to quickly scissor him open. Seth can't control his own body; even though he tries to not seem as into this as he feels, he can't stop himself from pushing back on those fingers, wanting more, wanting everything Dean can give him.

Dean releases his cock with a wet pop, and Seth stares down at him through eyes that he has to fight to keep open against the onslaught of pleasure those fingers are dealing him. His entire body is aching now with the desperate need for Dean to just fuck him already, and he knows it must be written all over his face because that damnable smirk is still firmly in place on the bastard's face. 

"Just--just fucking..." Seth damns himself straight to hell, because when he speaks he sounds so ruined, his voice several pitches deeper than usual and so scratchy from the heaving breaths he has to take to keep air in his burning lungs, "fucking do it already."

"Oh, I'm gonna. I'm gonna fuck you up, wreck you so hard you never forget who you belong to." Dean pulls his fingers out and manhandles him, jerking his thighs apart roughly and yanking him down the bed, pausing to slick his cock with lube as he keeps eye contact with Seth. 

Dean pushes his legs back and leans forward on his knees, positioning himself with one hand as he pushes into him. Seth can feel all the air in his lungs slowly release as he feels himself opening up to Dean, his cock feeling somehow bigger than he remembers it. Maybe because he hasn't done this in a while. Maybe because he hasn't wanted to, if it wasn't Dean doing it.

Dean's eyes slip shut, his head tipping forward and the fringe of sweaty curls falling down to obscure them from view. Another low, rumbling growl escapes his chest, followed by a tremulous moan.

Seth stares up at him through his heavy eyelids, his gaze firmly fixed on the stubbled line of Dean's jaw, on the way his chest glistens in the minimal light of the room as he breathes deeply in and out, and he remembers for a minute exactly why he sometimes regrets all he's done. He knew all he'd been throwing away when he had done what he'd done, how much it would hurt Dean. But what he hadn't anticipated is how deeply it'd cut him as well. Many months of lonely nights to think about it since had made him realize that he missed Dean a hell of a lot more than he thought he would. A small ache alights in his ribcage, and he quickly tries to shove it down before it overtakes him and ruins this moment. He wants to take it all in, call it a gift because he still doesn't know what brought this on, or if it will ever happen again. He doesn't know why Dean came to him tonight to try to claim him again or if it would change anything when it was over. But damn it all, damn it all to hell; if this is one last moment in Heaven before Dean sends him back to Hell, then so be it.

After another moment to steel himself, Dean opens his eyes and stares down at him again, their eyes locking once more and he pulls almost all the way out before slamming back inside of him, the smack of skin against skin so loud in the quiet of the room. He quickly sets up a brutal rhythm, Seth's body rocking forward with every powerful thrust of Dean's hips. Seth grips Dean's shoulders, his jagged nails digging into the skin there as he sought to ground himself, short, harsh moans and whimpers falling from his mouth. 

Each time Dean powers forward he punishes Seth's prostate, stabbing it ruthlessly until Seth is nearly screaming, his head thrown back against the pillow. Dean snakes a hand down and wraps it around Seth's throbbing length, stroking it harshly in time with the vicious rhythm of his thrusts.

Dean leans forward over him, one hand on the mattress beside his head for leverage as he fucks the air right out of Seth's lungs, until all that is coming out of him now are pitiful sounding whimpers. "Come on Seth, come on, let me see you come apart for me, let me feel it..."

Dean's raspy, growling whisper is all it takes to send Seth hurtling over the edge. His whole body goes rigid as his cock spurts between them, coating both their stomachs with his cum. His vision goes absolutely white for a second, and maybe he even blacks out, he doesn't know; the next thing he is aware of is Dean's feral scream and erratic, rutting thrusts as he loses himself inside of his body. He can feel every single pulse of Dean's cock as it coats his insides with his seed. 

Dean collapses on top of him, breath coming in short, hard gasps. After a minute he rolls off to the side, falling with a soft thud onto the bed beside him. 

Seth waits for both their breathing to regulate, for his heart to stop jack hammering inside of his ribs, before he finally asks his question. "You mind telling me what that was about?"

Dean cracks one eye open and looks at him, considering, and a small, tired smile turns up the corners of his lips. "Nothing," he says, nonchalantly, and before Seth can protest he continues, "just didn't want you to get the idea that that ass belongs to anyone but me. Don't think I didn't see the way Orton has been eyeing you. And don't get me started on Cena."

"That's it?" Seth stared at him disbelieving, "You got jealous? But I thought... I thought you were done with me after..."

"Jealousy has nothing to do with it. It's about you knowing that THIS," he punctuates his words by reaching over and yanking him against his body, "is mine. All mine." Dean narrows his eyes for a second, "You're a rat bastard, Seth. But you're MY rat bastard."

They're both quiet for a few moments and Seth lets all of this sink in.

"You're totally jealous." Seth can't quite contain his elation at this. And here he thought things were over for good between them. He couldn't quite believe what was happening, but he wasn't about to question it any further. 

"Fuck you. Not jealous. They just can't have you." He ends the conversation with a kiss, and pulls Seth closer against his body.

Both have smiles on their faces as they fall asleep.


End file.
